


A Spoonful of Happiness

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Draco Malfoy, Adult Hermione Granger, Aged-Up Character(s), Alpha Draco Malfoy, Baskin-Robbins, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Biting, Blow Jobs, Creature Fic, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Foreplay, Gold Medal Ribbon Ice Cream, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Heart-to-Heart, Heavy Petting, Ice Cream, Insecure Draco Malfoy, Knotting, Love Confessions, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, POV Draco Malfoy, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Pining Draco Malfoy, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Soft Draco Malfoy, Spooning, Were-Creatures, Werewolf Draco Malfoy, Werewolf Mates, Werewolf Pain-Relief Magic, farewell to summer fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:01:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26591089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Draco Malfoy is registered as an unmated werewolf and has twenty days to choose his mate. Hermione Granger is assigned to Draco by the Ministry to coordinate organic meetings with his potential mates and be prepared to support him should his behavior veer towards mania as an unmated werewolf.However, Draco has already chosen his mate; she just doesn’t know it yet.Posted for Farewell To Summer: The 31 Flavours of Smut
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 41
Kudos: 651
Collections: Farewell to Summer: The 31 Flavors of Smut, finished 2020





	A Spoonful of Happiness

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  _A huge thank you to the[J](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EarlGreyPanic)[A](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Takingflight48)[M](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwi05622/works) squad for the alphabeta!_   
> 

  


Her tongue toyed with the metal spoon before disappearing between her lips, moaning in pleasure as she finally tasted its treat. His eyes narrowed on the light sheen of cream that remained on her lower lip, and before Draco could lurch forward to clean up her mess, the pink tip of her tongue peeked out to collect the cream first.

He watched her thin throat tightened, swallowing down the icy goodness and involuntarily felt him do the same. His nostrils flared as he tried to control his blood’s reaction to her seemingly innocuous actions. 

He tore his eyes away, remembering why he was even watching her eat as he glanced around her living room. They had retreated to her flat after another failed attempt at choosing his potential mate via dating. The female werewolf instantly knew from a single sniff that he had picked his mate. He rubbed his cheek as he recalled the woman growling at him for his insensitivity and slapped him in the middle of the restaurant. 

It was an absolute disaster, as Hermione observed their interaction as the neutral third party from the Ministry and misread the situation as a hostile threat. She quickly pointed her wand hovering back and forth between him and his date, ready to cast a stunning hex should they act violently. Hermione’s reaction only further angered the woman, and she picked up her untouched red wine and splashed the wine aimed at his face, ruining his white oxford shirt with splotches of red. 

Hermione, distraught and confused, tended to him while his date for the evening narrowed her eyes at Hermione, baring her sharp fangs. With one last heated glare, she turned on her heels and left after muttering a slew of unsavoury names in French that would undoubtedly make his mother faint. 

She insisted that muggles often partake in ice cream after a bad break up. He pointed out that it wasn’t a break up because he was not in a relationship. She just shrugged and gave him a cheeky smile as she said, “Close enough.” 

So here they were, sitting on her couch, legs outstretched over his as she devoured her muggle ice cream. 

“Are you sure you don’t want a bite, Draco?” Hermione asked before she scooped _her_ spoon into the ghastly pink tub and came back out overflowing with creamy caramel ice cream. She shifted a bit closer, and through the thin fabric of his dress shirt, he could feel her warmth licking up his arm. 

With a small shudder, he clenched his jaw and counted to three before raising a brow at her. Feigning nonchalance, despite her proximity, he tilted his head to meet her eyes. “Granger, I should go home, it’s getting late.”

She dropped the spoon in the tub, already half-eaten. “Are you sure?” she asked, her concerned brown eyes sweeter than any chocolate he had ever had. “I just want to make sure you’ll be okay,” she sighed before dropping her gaze to the ice cream she was shifting in her hold. 

“You have no reason to feel bad; these things happen.” He shrugged his shoulder and luxuriated as it rubbed against her arm 

“But...you don’t have enough time!” she exclaimed, slamming the tub onto her coffee table with a dull thud as she stood up. A wisp of his fringe fell over his eyes from the speed of her movement. She bit her thumb as she paced back and forth before her muggle box she called _T.V. “_ You have to find your mate within the next twenty days,” she paused, sharply turned her feet towards him and looked at him with searching eyes. “Twenty days!” She emphasized her words by throwing her hands over her head. “That’s less than a month! Merlin, Draco, I’m worried about you!” 

He knew she was speaking, but his mind could barely move past the way her lips formed each word and how, when she bit her lower lip then dragged her teeth before releasing them, they would pout out redder and riper than before. He darted his eyes back to hers, realizing she was waiting for a response. “It’s fine, Granger,” he said quietly, hoping to placate her and erase the sour anxiety that reached his nostrils. The other half of him, the beast she was so adamant in helping, insisted he plucked her from the pace she set for herself once again, drop her into his lap, and hold her tenderly as he soothed her worries away. 

“Absolutely not!” He watched her wide-eyed as she grit her teeth, scarcely holding onto a new level of hysteria. She closed her chocolate coloured eyes and lifted a hand to cover them as she inhaled then exhaled with her words, “it’s not fine.” Dropping her hand, she blinked her eyes back at him, a shiny sheen to them as her nose wrinkled to keep what he assumed was tears at bay, “It’s been three years, Draco. Werewolves need to choose their mate by thirty-five.”

“I know.” He gritted his teeth, wishing she was his so he could ease her concern with his hands on her slender waist and his nose and teeth gliding along with her pulse point. He shook his head to banish the thoughts as he felt his canines itch, as if they, too, were dying to get a little taste of the mouth-watering flesh of her exposed neck. 

“Do you?” her voice wild, “because if you do, then you wouldn’t say it’s fine when there has been extensive research proving that unmated werewolves either have debilitating depression or go into a bloodthirsty rage!” 

He rolled his eyes, which earned him a scowl, “Merlin, Granger. I know. You made me read that research paper at least ten times.” Her frown only deepened before her shoulders slouched, the inferno in her eyes tapering out to a smoulder. 

“Then why haven’t you found anyone yet,” she said with a small voice. She stepped closer to him, and his fingers twitched, wanting to grab her arm and trace the veins pumping blood back to her heart. “I know, I know I came into this because it’s my job to make sure you choose the best mate for you, and I know we didn’t have the most pleasant history, but,” she took another small step, knees almost brushing his own “I do _care_ about you, Draco.” She gave him a small hesitant smile, her warm, inviting eyes darting between his own. 

He could smell her concern and deep care for him. He could feel the heat her impassioned speech had stirred in her. It was as if all the strings that restrained his limbs from touching Hermione frayed and snapped one by one. He stood up to close the distance between them as he gripped her hips and brought her into a tight embrace. He felt her skin quiver under his touch as her small gasp echoed through his mind. He flexed his fingers, pinky on fire as it brushed the sliver of skin his sudden movement exposed. His stomach roiled in the most pleasant way possible as she moulded into him. 

“Draco?” her voice muffled against his chest. 

He dipped his head until his lips scarcely grazed her temple. “If,” his word blew one of her errant stray curls back. He felt his limbs tremble, unable to even feel an ounce of embarrassment while he was so worried this would be the first and last time he could hold her like this. Rejoicing in the hold a moment longer, his grip on her tightened, nose trailing along her hairline but never touching. He inhaled the faint wisp of firewhisky that mingled with her scent. He drank it in and closed his eyes both to relish this moment for just a bit longer and seep some of her courage into himself. “If,” he tried once more, “I were to tell you that I’ve chosen you as my mate, what would you say?” 

His heart thundered against his chest, and he braced himself for her to jolt away from his touch. His bruising grip around her loosened, _Merlin, if she rejected him now, what would he do?_ She didn’t say anything, but he could hear her heart rate increasing. Was it fear?

He didn’t mean to choose her as his mate. It just _happened_. He knew he should’ve picked another female werewolf. No sane witch would go for someone afflicted with lycanthropy. It would be easier, simpler, but he knew it would not make him happier. This was just one of the many selfish choices he had made once again. 

The little witch still hadn’t made any move to turn away, nor did she raise her arms to embrace him. 

Ignoring her lack of reaction, he remembered when they started to get close. She came knocking on his door literally, as he had not responded to even one of her many letters. He was told the Ministry keeps track of all the werewolves and their mates if they choose to live amongst the magical folks. It had appeared that he was the only registered werewolf without a mate. She had explained her role was two-fold; coordinate organic meetings with potential future partners and be prepared to support him should his behaviour veer towards mania as an unmated werewolf. She kept a neutral expression for the most part, but he could see the corner of her mouth slightly downturn as she explained the last detail. 

Initially, it was strictly business, and as he ran his hand tentatively up her back and back down again, he was thankful that those early days shifted to allow broader topics of conversation. In her need to understand him better, they discussed their passions, their dreams, their hobbies - it all evolved naturally. 

His hands trembled as they slid across her lower back so he could fully embrace her. 

She remained silent, and he knew that he buggered up whatever relationship they had - he almost wanted to call it friendship. He took one last quivering breath, arms cradling her like he longed to do earlier before he dropped them like a lead weight to his sides. He shifted, almost leaning back until the back of his knees touched the couch and gave her a wry smile. 

“You don’t have to answer, Granger,” his left cheek twitched from the forced upward tilt at the corner of his lip. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, “It’s getting late. I should really go.” His chest tightened, and the scent of her that he found so intoxicating was slowly turning poisonous. Her eyes were wide, and her lips slightly parted. She didn’t look up to his face; it remained firmly on the floor. With a shuddering breath, he gave a curt nod, “Right.” He attempted to shift past her without touching her again and headed down towards her floo. 

As he prepared himself to leave her flat for probably the last time, he felt something cold and wet hit the back of his head and slowly slide down his neck. He froze, senses working overtime to identify the offending material; it was that blasted muggle ice cream. 

“Are you bloody serious?” she said in a low, dangerous voice. 

He slowly turned, mouth agape and brow raised, ignoring her attempt at intimidating, “Did you just…” he paused and brought his hand to the back of his neck. He could feel the cream dripping down his back. He let out a short exhale, “Did you just throw ice cream at me?” 

“Where do you think you’re going?” the fire in her eyes was raging so brightly he was quite certain it could melt the ice cream clinging on his back. 

“Ice cream, really?” he just repeated, incredulous that Hermione could be so _childish_ about this. 

“You can’t just - just -” she waved her hands haphazardly, her eyes shifting back and forth, grasping for the next words, “drop this on me and walk away!”

He scoffed, “And what would you have me do?” He prowled closer to her, “Stand here, holding your frozen body as I continue to pour my heart out to you? Wouldn’t it be better for you to come to terms with my unfortunate decision-making skills on your own? You more than anyone else knows what accepting to be mine would entail.” He couldn’t help himself as he cast a lecherous look from her pouty lips, down her thrumming pulse point, to her rapidly rising chest before forcing his eyes back up to her face. 

Her cheeks grew pink, “I-” she opened her mouth before snapping it shut, teeth clinking loudly in the tense silence. 

He pulled out his wand and _scourgify_ himself and her floor as he worked to remove the sorrow from his voice. “I’m not going to force you to be with someone like me, someone who has lycanthropy,” he said while charming the ice cream tub back down on her coffee table. If he kept his hand busy, he wouldn’t do anything stupid like beg at her feet or throw her over his shoulder and back to his bedroom - at least that’s what he hoped. 

“When?” she asked. 

The dreaded question froze his movements. “When, what?” he retorted lightly, hoping for once he was not as in tune with her thoughts as they normally were. 

She gave an irritated huff as she crossed her arms over her decadent chest and tapped her bare left foot against her soft rug. “When did you choose me as your mate?” she asked directly, head following his eyes as they strayed, forcing eye contact and ensuring that he couldn’t misconstrue her words. 

It didn’t matter what age he was; he didn’t like to be forced into a corner now than he did when he was a little shit at 13. “Does it really matter?” he responded obstinately, cringing when his tone harkened back to the days of running to his father when uncomfortable or annoyed. 

“Of course it does,” Hermione replied in a single beat. “Or did you forget the part where I said that I care for you?” 

For a moment, they were in a silent staring match, him with eyes clouding over with hope and her with that Gryffindor defiance he had equally adored and loathed. 

Letting out a long-suffering sigh, he walked around her and slumped back down on the couch, quickly closing his eyes. He felt the couch dip next to him and blinked open his eyes as her scent wafted towards him. He fisted his trouser to keep himself still, unwilling to push, even when the wolf inside him was growling to let go. 

“As my mate, as the woman both myself and my wolf desire most, it would be incredibly difficult for me to pick another,” he said, staring straight ahead. He felt her fingers wrap lightly around his fist, which he loosened immediately. 

“We can work through this, Draco,” she said softly, “I know I have been monopolizing quite a bit of your time lately, and perhaps that has forced you, in light of the upcoming milestone, to chose me as a mate-”

He finally whipped his gaze towards her, seeing that her brows were knitted as she worried her bottom lip raw. “You think I’m unsure of my chosen mate?” He gave a small chuckle as he eyed her furrowed brow, incredulous that such a brilliant witch could even suggest something so utterly wrong. 

“Well-” she started, ready to defend herself. 

“No,” he scoffed before turning his head to stare straight ahead, “Rest assure that my choice was not a byproduct of our proximity or your constant presence.”

“When?” She urged again as her fingers gripped his tightly. 

“When do you think?” he countered back. He was desperately trying to rebuild his mental walls and regain his footing. It was for naught, as holding his chosen mate for a few moments of quiet embrace had blown his shelter away and laid his heart bare for all to see. So instead, his emotions and potential for further pain all laid there, out in the open, ready to pick up, examine, and crush if she wished to. 

“I don’t know,” he felt the frustration in her huff as his seat jostled from her shifting her position. “Why are you being so obtuse?” she exclaimed in exasperation. 

“It doesn’t matter when I knew,” his voice came out with the underlying growl, “what matters is that you are it. My other half, my mate, but you can’t accept me,” his anger and self-pity stirred together, squeezing his heart. “Nor, should you,” he gasped out as if his own words were begging to stay in as he bowed his head low. 

“Draco?” she called, but he only shut his eyes tighter. He could feel his heart beating rapidly, could hear his sharp breaths over her sweet call to him, as he fervently attempted to scoop up his messy emotions inside his mindscape but finding that they continued to sift through his fingers. He didn’t see any relief in sight until he felt her warm hands on his cheek and his body automatically melted in contentment. He slowly opened his eyes as she turned his head towards her. She leaned in, and their lips touched - no - it was a light graze. 

Without thinking, his hand reached up to her cheek, and he pulled her in to plant their lips together firmly. She gave a small squeak as her hand dropped from his face and clutched his shirt’s collar. Her lips were soft, her tongue pliant as he delved into taste whatever words she had left unspoken. Her surprise dissolved with every stroke and nip. He pushed her down slowly onto the couch and focused on ravishing her lips like a starved wolf. And he was starved, that is, as he pressed kisses to her cheek, her upper jaw, and then finally on the milky white of her neck. When he felt her hands begin to trace up and down his outer arms, his kisses turned to scorching sucks against her exposed neck, and his hands busied themselves with unbuttoning her blouse. However, he released her neck with a low growl, giving up careful and slow to rip open her blouse. He sent her a cheeky grin as her small buttons pinged around the room as he held the last barrier to her bare soft torso. He slowly dragged her shirt down, revealing her sun-speckled shoulder, and before he even had a moment to expose the rest of her to his greedy gaze, he brought his face to her shoulder, breathing lightly. He gave a little lick, deciding he would trace the spots later, one by one, and drew back to contain the quiver of excitement and arousal coursing through his body. 

If he bit and knotted inside of her, she would be his; she would be claimed in a dance as old as the moon itself. His throat grumbled in a low growl, and all he could see was her shoulder and the intoxicating scent of her arousal. 

“Draco?” the slight quiver in her voice slashed through the lust laden fog in his brain. Snapped out of his stupor, his body froze over her, and suddenly a secondary scent, mixed with her arousal, slammed into him. 

Fear. 

He pushed himself off her robotically until he was as far away from her as possible without outright leaving the couch. On his knees, he ran his fingers through his hair to control the tremors in his fingers. 

“Draco?” she called again, her voice slightly firm, but he could still _taste_ the underlying fear.

He felt himself shaking as he took her in. Where normally the sight alone of her laid before him would send him into another haze of desire; instead he traced the damage he had unwittingly caused. Her bottom lip was bloodied, presumably where his nips had gotten a bit too deep. Her blood was smeared along the lines of her jaw, and a sluggish pearl of blood was making its way down her otherwise unadorned neck. 

“Merlin,” he swore under his breath before running his tongue over his teeth. His sharp fangs had come out, and as he raised his hand, he winced to see his claws crudely protruding where his fingernails used to be. “Merlin,” he repeated, “I need to go,” his wide eyes zeroed in on her blood, his wolf howling to close her wound quickly. “I need to go,” he took a deep breath, trying to convince himself to walk away from her _again_ , even if his body wouldn’t answer to his brain’s command. 

“Do you regret choosing me as your mate?” she asked softly. His eyes snapped back to her face, the question not yet registering in his mind. He remained silent, and that was a poor choice because a heartbeat later, Hermione gave a small sniffle before turning her head away from him. He was further distracted from understanding the words she spoke as her neck was more clearly exposed, the light bite marks that broke her soft skin on display. “Please, just go, then.” 

“What?” he asked dumbly as his head swirled from the fast changes of the night.

She covered half her face with her arm as she repeated herself, “I said you could go. I apologize for keeping you up-” her voice was growing sharper, and he could feel her tremble from beneath him. 

“Hermione, what’s wrong?” he asked. He attempted to swallow the lump in his throat, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please, at least let me heal your wounds,” he said his words carefully. When she made no move to respond, he hesitantly reached out to remove her arm from her face, careful not to scratch her with his clawed nails. 

The moment he touched her, however, she slapped his arm away. Eyes ablaze, she spat, “Is choosing me as your mate that terrible to you, that you, that-” she let out a bitter laugh, and shook her head, “nevermind, can you get off me? I can take care of this.” She pointed at the wound he inflicted. 

He brought his hand to collect a single tear that trailed down her rosy cheeks, “I never once regretted choosing you as my mate.” He sighed and retracted his hand from her face. 

She grabbed his retreating hand, “Then stop sending me mixed signals,” she snarled as her grip tightened around him. 

His chest was slowly rising, and the debris from the earlier collapse in his chest cleared away. “If-” he started, before taking a small breath, voice shaking as he tried this whole thing again, “if I were to tell you that I’ve chosen you as my mate, what would you say?”

She tugged his wrist hard. He complied, dropping his upper torso until his face hovered a hair’s breadth from hers. Her pupils dilated, and he could see small flecks of gold in her eyes. Her arms circled his neck and pulled his chest closer. “I would say, yes,” she murmured before she sealed her answer with a gentle chaste kiss. 

He felt his world explode then narrow back into this singular moment of acceptance. He closed his eyes, praying to any listening deities that Hermione would be in his arms the next time he woke up. He pulled back and, with trembling fingers, muttered an _episkey_ to heal her broken lip. He dragged his lips, planting small butterfly kisses down her jaw, tasting the copper tang from her blood, pushing aside his regret once again as he trailed down to her neck and cast another _episkey_. 

She gave a small content sigh, and his hand dropped from her shoulder to finally trail up and down her bare torso. His claw reached her bra, and he ripped the thin middle fabric holding the cups together. She let out a small gasp at his audacity, initiative, whatever it was, it sent his blood fast-tracking to his cock. Her hands reached for his buttons and started to unbutton them one by one. His hand easily cupped her breast, and he kneaded it gently, eliciting another quiet gasp causing his head to drop down to her shoulder as he felt her nipple peaking into his palm. 

He groaned into her neck, “I can’t- I can’t wait,” he gasped before he wandlessly cast _divesto_. Their clothes vanished before reappearing somewhere else in the room. He was too distracted to notice as he pulled away and sat back on his calves. His eyes travelled over her nude form. The blush he always loved pulling from her slowly extended past her jaw down her neck and lightly touching the underside of her collarbone. He gently drew the pad of his fingers to follow its reddening path, fingers gliding over her nipples as she arched up into him slightly. 

“You are everything, everything I need and more, Hermione.” Moving his hands down her chest and torso, he glided down either side of her sex before letting his claws drag lightly along her inner thighs, shivering as her skin puckered at his light teasing touch. His eyes met her half-lidded gaze as he nudged her legs to part slowly. He finally broke eye contact when her legs were as wide as the couch would allow and glanced down at the valley of her luscious thighs. 

As he maneuvered himself between her legs, he raised her right leg to rest along the back of the couch. He trailed kisses from her bent knee to her now glistening sex. The scent of her was driving him mad, but he finally felt more in control of his own emotions and desires, as if knowing he wouldn’t go without his mate for the rest of his life soothed the manic energy in him. 

He wanted to plunge his fingers into the moist outer lips, to feel how tight and warm she was against his fingers, but he knew that his claws could cause her pain. So he opted to use the pad of his thumbs to spread her lips apart, lightly massaging them. 

“Ah,” her small moan caused his member to tremble in need. 

“I’ve always wanted to taste you, Hermione,” he whispered, before relishing in the scent of her intense arousal and taking an experimental lick between her lips to her clit. 

“D-ahh!” she cried out, and her thighs tried to shut, but his body wedged between her legs wouldn’t allow it. Her hips slightly raised as if seeking out his mouth in case he planned to leave, as he obediently swiped his tongue over her sex, around her lips, and through her clit. When her sex was leaking for him, he finally latched his mouth around her opening, sucking and probing his tongue in and out of her sex. 

She let out a litany of mewls and moans, which only spurred him on with one goal in mind; to drink her cream down until she was bone dry. 

“Draco, Draco, Draco!” she chanted, as the wet smacking of lips on lips and her moans mingled into the charged air. Her thighs trembled as her hips ground against his tongue. He was panting, with his tongue lolled out, letting her take what she needed as she rubbed her clit up and down. He could smell the wave of intense arousal hit her, knowing her completion was around the corner. He quickly withdrew, earning a painful cry from her. 

“Please, please, please,” she begged as her hand reached out to him, “I was so so so close,” she cried, raising her hips high for him to taste her once more. 

Dragging one teasing thumb up and down her slit once more, he quickly licked off her cream from his lips and felt his member throb painfully as he watched his mate writhing in need of him. “Tell me,” he hissed, “that you’re mine.” A low growl emitted from his throat. 

He was desperate to flip her over and shove his prick inside of her, let her squirm on his shaft and come on his cock as he marked her as his. 

“I’m yours, yours, yours, yours,” she said in between gasps, as her hand reached out for him. 

He grabbed her hand and pulled her up. She was light as a feather as she slammed into his chest as if he had performed an overpowered _accio_. “Tell me,” he moaned as her sweat-soaked skin glided against his own, “that’ll you take my mark.”

“I will,” she whimpered. His cock twitched against her abdomen as she ground her cunt against his knee loving that her cream smeared pussy was leaving behind a wet trail of her arousal for him because of him. 

He stood abruptly, letting her go gently to sit upright on the couch, nude legs splayed wide open, eyes jaded by the arousal his tongue had elicited form her. Groaning at the sight she made, he threw her blanket on the ground violently before more calmly tossing all four of her couch pillows along with it. “On the floor,” he ordered as he stroked his length to relieve the ache she had blown wide open with her mewls and pleas for more. 

He was ready to bark the order again when he smirked at her eyes affixed on his member, seemingly following the rise and fall of his hand while she licked her lips. 

“Do you want a taste?” he asked, his voice growing hoarse as he imagined the feel of her sweet tongue laving his precum clean and taking his entire length down her tight throat. 

She gave a small nod before slinking down to her knees on the floor. He stepped into her, and her small, hot hands immediately found purchase on his thighs. Taking his hardened prick in one hand, he traced the tip of his cock over her cherry lips. She slowly parted her mouth, and he popped the helmet of his prick in first. Her tongue lashed out, stroking the slit up and down. 

Groaning, he pushed his length further in, mindful not to lose himself in the snug warmth she provided. 

“That’s it,” he murmured, holding the base of his cock as he slid in and out. “Just like that,” he urged her on as she bobbed back and forth on his length. Spittle coating his entire length and the wet noises of her licking and panting pushed his hips against her lips, causing his cock to hit the back of her throat. Her nails dug into his thighs, and he felt her throat contract as she gagged on his cock, causing the saliva to leak from her lips and drip down to the floor, creating a small puddle. 

He was ready to pull back, not interested in choking her with his cock when her wet, ready pussy was leaking for him but felt a full-body groan escape his lips as she took him just as deep again and again. He was able to bite back another moan as her hand began to stroke him in tandem with her mouth. He was going to come and knot inside of her mouth instead of her cunt. He pulled back with a wet pop and stepped away. She looked up at him, kneeled before him with bruised lips quirking up into a small smile. He couldn’t believe this witch would say yes to being his mate. He felt his chest tightened, and a surge of warmth and gratitude tingled down his spine to his extremities. 

He gently traced her hairline with his fingers, thumb coming to wipe her excess saliva off her chin as he mumbled quietly, “you are so bloody fantastic, sucking my cock so wonderfully.” 

He looked at the haphazardly thrown blanket and pillows on the floor around her and knew this was not enough. He furrowed his brows; it was such a basic set-up, almost feral, how he’d almost taken her as his mate. “We should go to your bedroom, Hermione,” he said as he got on his knees and caged her face with his hands, gently stroking her cheeks that quirked up coyly at his words, as if she found them cute rather than the romantic gesture he had been aiming for. “I need you to be comfortable when I make you mine,” he leaned forward, leaving a soft lingering kiss on her upturned lips. 

He felt his knees sink into the floor. When he drew back, the mischievous glint in her eyes rendered him speechless. “Cushioning charm,” she said simply. 

He let out a soft snort, “I was thinking something more romantic.”

Feeling her fingers land one by one on his shoulder and tighten, he was pulled in for a hard kiss, and just before he could deepen it, she nipped his lower lip lightly before pulling away barely a centimetre. “I was thinking of having you now,” she whispered against his lips, feeling her hot breath fan out around his own. 

He pulled her tightly into a heated embrace. Not willing to waste another moment, he cupped her thighs and raised her legs, which instantly wrapped around his hips. He cupped her arse cheeks, slightly lifting until she was aligned to the tip of his weeping cock. He dropped his forehead to hers; eyes stuck on her almost black irises as he slid into her slowly. Their eyes fluttered shut, both moaning in unison as a wet, hot, tight heat took all of him. 

When she was finally settled to the hilt, he felt her body tremble, her arms wrapping tighter around him. He dropped her small kisses on all over her face, her hair, and all around her ears. He raised his head as he felt her head land heavily on her shoulder and noticed their reflection from her muggle picture box. When he looked beyond the contracting back and shoulder muscles of his chosen mate, he paused at how inhuman he looked compared to her. Where she was soft curves and human reactions, he had slanted yellow eyes, thick claws possessively grasping her lower half, and sharp canines that could and would stop any naysayers from interrupting this moment. 

“What’s wrong,” she panted in his ears as her arse gave a small wiggle to urge him to continue pumping. 

He gulped, eyes drifting back to his reflection once again before resting his chin against her crown. Taking a small breath, he lifted her and regretfully slid himself out of her wet heat. 

She let out a keen of protest and found his gaze with her own, biting her inner cheek and seemingly allowing him the time to explain. 

“Let’s switch positions, I think it’d be best,” he finished awkwardly. 

She blinked back at him, and he uneasily saw the questions adding up in that ever-spinning brain of hers. Before any could escape her puckered mouth, he quickly beat her to it. “There are other positions best used for mating purposes,” he murmured. 

“Ha!” she puffed out, and he could just see her hair growing in indignation, “Well, the position we were in was perfectly fin-” 

“Please,” he managed to choke out. He didn’t want to delay their coupling further, but he saw himself, saw what he was. He feared that once she shook off her cloud of lust, she would turn away in disgust from his changed features, and he was not ready to be broken that way once again. 

He waited for her to argue back, but was surprised to hear a small, “Okay.” His head snapped back up, eyes darting to hers as she slowly tilted her head to the side, hand coming up to caress his cheek softly. “Which position?” she asked with a soft smile. 

“Right,” he nodded, shaking off his stupor. 

“Like this,” he said as he gently unwrapped her legs from his waist and manipulated her body to face away from him. Once he had softly rolled her to her side, facing away from the couch, he scooted down behind her. He kissed between her shoulder blades and up to her neck before slipping his arm under her neck, wrapping his lower arm across her upper chest and finally pulling her back firmly against his chest. He allowed his fingers a moment to trace the skin his now trapped arm could reach before he dragged his left hand up and down her left thigh. 

Reaching her knee, he quickly brought her leg up over his own, moving his hand down to align his tip to her entrance from this new angle and slowly thrusting himself back into her tightening core. 

She sighed as she dropped her head back into the crevice of his upper arm and shoulder. “This is nice too,” she said, lazily thrusting her arse back into him. 

He gave a small chuckle before kissing and licking up and down the column of her neck. “I agree,” he moaned as he was finally fully seated inside her once again. 

He continued his slow thrusting, murmuring sweet words of how perfect she was, how sweet she smelled, and how he couldn’t resist choosing her as his mate when he first turned. His confessions were interspersed with the soft groans and whimpers that they pulled from each other as their hips thrust, hands explored, and lips traced messages of love into each other. 

Hermione whispered something, as his neck was buried in the magic of her craned neck. He nipped her ear before asking her to repeat it. 

“I wanted to see you,” she said, panting from his shift in angle. 

“See me? You can always-” his smile faded, hips freezing mid-thrust as he slowly brought his face away from her curls and in the direction she would be looking. With a start, he was faced with a clear reflection of Hermione’s beautifully flushed face and a monster taking her from behind. He should have known his witch would conjure a mirror if he took away the opportunity to face her. 

“Draco?” her voice tinged with worry, worry for him. He embraced her tighter and nuzzled his face back into the juncture of her neck and shoulder. 

“It’s nothing,” he murmured as he continued his long, slow thrusting. 

He felt her fingers thread through his hair, and he moaned until she pulled his head up, forcing him to face their reflection once again in the conjured mirror. 

“Stay?” she pleaded. 

He tightened his embrace, swallowing both the overwhelming feeling of something in his gut and the fear of her retracting her desire the longer she saw him, and reluctantly nodded. He tried to focus on her heart-shaped face, her parted lips, two dusky peaked nipples, anything to avoid looking at the monster in the mirror. It was difficult, but as long as he focused on her reactions to his attentions, he could grant her wish of seeing him like this. 

He felt her walls flutter slightly against his throbbing cock, and she brought her hand down to grip his arm tightly. Although this would be their first time, he felt he could read her signals easily as he could smell her strong emotions. 

Without needing further encouragement, he slammed his hips harder against her arse, and she moaned louder in response. The walls of her quivering cavern clenched around him, and he welcomed a new wave of arousal as he inhaled. 

He knew she was very close, and he was thankful because he felt his balls slowly growing heavier against his sex. He trailed his free hand over her nipples, tweaking them softly before descending to her sex. With as much caution as before, he brought the pad of his thumb to her extended clit to circle it slowly, teasingly. 

Her breath quickened as she chanted out his name, and he moved his hips quicker, harder until he felt his bollocks drawing up tight. “Hermione, Hermione,” he moaned out loud, “tell me,” he panted as he continued to pound into her while rubbing tight circles against her nub, “tell me, you’ll take my knot,” he growled out, only withdrawing to the middle of his prick before slamming back into her again. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted. Her chants of “yes” turned into a scream of ecstasy as she clenched tightly around his member. The moment the scent of her orgasm hit him, he screamed with her as he shot his seed deep into her. He felt the base of his member swell as he instinctively pushed in deeper, stretching her walls with his inflamed knot. He felt his come continue to paint her sex, some leaking out from the overwhelming amount he was expelling as she continued to groan mindlessly. Simultaneously, he licked her shoulder, lips puckering into a quick kiss, before sinking his teeth into the soft crook of her neck, feeling the blood well up from the puncture and into his mouth. 

Her body spasmed as she hissed at the initial bite of his teeth before humming in pleasure, squirming against his prick, and he laved his tongue quickly over her neck, healing her skin with his saliva as he felt the overwhelming love between the bond they would forever share. 

As the finality of the bonding pulled another orgasm from the both of them, he groaned as she mindlessly bucked against him, legs trembling as her quim squeezed his cock so tightly he relatched his lips onto her neck hard. He felt her neck arch back further, mouth open as a silent scream escaped her and he quickly pulled his teeth back, licking, kissing, and suckling the skin until it was sealed and simply red from his mark once more. “Sorry, so sorry, love, so good but so sorry.” 

Her voice finally pierced through her silent scream of pain, “Bloody hurt, but it’s okay. Oh Draco, I feel you, all of you, so, so big,” she sobbed. He was not prepared to bring her pain, only pleasure, so it took him to see her tears streaming down her soft face for his hand to finally abandon his light pressure on her clit to run his hands up and down her arm and her lower abdomen as her body slowly stretched to hold him tight. 

He planted kisses on her shoulder, cheek, and temple, whispering how good she took his mark and his knot—apologizing as she sniffled from the pain. 

“It hurts Draco,” Hermione moaned as she gritted her teeth. 

“I know, I know, sweet,” he murmured as he continued to soothe his palm lightly over her stomach and up and down her arm in a comforting gesture. “You did so well,” he said as he planted small kisses down her neck. 

Her breathing finally normalized, as she shifted, seemingly more used to his knot inside of her. He just held her tightly, telling her how happy he was and how he would always make her happy. 

When she finally stilled staring at him through her conjured up mirror, she said, “Your looks don’t bother me, you know.” She trailed her finger up and down one of his clawed fingers, “I _like_ everything about you.” He pulled her in closer. Her butt pressed right against his pubic bone. 

He trailed his nose up her neck, breathing in the scent of their coupling and her sweet fragrance. “I _like_ everything about you too,” he said, throat tight with emotion. He gave a small kiss to her temple before turning back to the mirror. Her cheeks painted red with her blush, and her smile sculpted perfectly. With her wild hair spread everywhere, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory it brought up. 

“What’s so funny,” she asked with a small chuckle in her voice. 

He brought his hand to brush her hair away from her face, neatly petting it away from them. “I was just thinking,” he breathed in as he closed his eyes and gave her another small kiss on her shoulder where he marked her. “When I sat at the Great Hall after the Dark Lord’s defeat, I remember recognizing you right away, you with your bushy hair.”

“Hey!” she grumbled, feigning annoyance. 

“I remember, smelling how utterly tired you were. But you didn’t show it. You were always strong-headed, even as kids. I admire that.” He opened his eyes and saw the shift of colour shimmering from bright yellow to silver. “That’s probably when I first thought of how lucky I would be if she could be my mate.”

Hermione’s eyes widened in realization, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

He shrugged, “You were practically betrothed to Weasley, and I had done nothing but caused you a lot of pain in the past.” He pressed his lips against her cheek, “The least I could do was stay out of the way of your happiness.”

She opened her mouth before promptly closing it shut. She turned her head towards him, and her eyes searched for something from him. She leaned in to kiss him, but before she pressed her lips against his, she whispered, “I’m happy now.”

**Author's Note:**

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>  **Please drop a comment/concrit; I would love to hear your thoughts!**


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